Saturday, August 29, 2015

Ride in a Pink Car (1974)

Standard stuff about a
tough guy who returns to his Southern hometown only to get into hassles with
hotheaded provincial types, Ride in a
Pink Car offers little of interest except for those determined to witness
the whole spectrum of violent-redneck cinema. From the far-fetched shootouts to
the lengthy car chases, Ride in a Pink
Car contains nothing but adequately staged versions of things we’ve all
seen before in slicker and more imaginative movies. This is passable escapism,
but just barely. Square-jawed Glenn Corbett stars as Gid Barker, who has been
absent without explanation for two years from the Florida town where he was
raised. A man of few words, Gid vaguely attributes his absence to military
service. Anyway, Gid tries to pick up where he left off with his ex, who married
someone else while Gid was gone, and then he tracks down another former
girlfriend for some heavy petting and reminiscing. Annoyed that he turned her on with no intention of consummating their flirtation, the former girlfriend
tells her simple-minded husband, Buck (Minor Mustain), that Gid made a pass at
her. Buck responds by picking a fight with Gid. After Buck pulls a gun, Gid
nabs the pistol and stupidly tries to teach Buck a lesson by pulling the
trigger, believing the gun to be empty. Surprise! Gid kills Buck, thereby
making a mortal enemy of Buck’s macho father, Jeff Richman (Morgan Woodward). Stealing a pink car from a traveling eccentric, Gid
makes a run for it, eventually collecting his ex and a Native American buddy, Rain
Eagle (Erni Benet), to join him on the road. Jeff and his cronies make chase,
leading to car crashes and, eventually, a bloody showdown.

All of this is just
as insipid as it sounds. If cowriter/director Robert J. Emery meant to position
Gid as some sort of wronged everyman fighting against a cruel system, he missed
the mark completely—Gid comes across as an impulsive asshole unwilling to face
the consequences of his reckless actions. That said, Emery portrays Jeff as
something even worse, a bloodthirsty vigilante eager to murder Gid in the name
of Jeff’s martyred idiot of a son. Whatever. Violent-redneck movies are
generally fueled by pulpy sensationalism instead of genuine narrative logic, so
thoughtful storytelling is a rarity in the genre. Even by those dubious
standards, however, Ride in a Pink Car
is shoddy. The characters are unlikable, the situations are unbelievable, and
the thrills are meager. At least Woodward gives a zesty performance as the main
villain, his icy eyes exploding from a pockmarked and tanned face surrounded by
a cloud of white hair. Whenever he’s on screen, especially during the
overheated finale, Ride in a Pink Car
feels like a proper deep-fried exploitation flick.